


Despair, Fangs and Blood

by Platinum_Bunny23



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: A few side pairings are there, Blood, Demons, Despair is p much a disease, Everyone is there, M/M, Mentions of Death, Supernatural Hunters, Vampires, all characters listed are ones who play any form of formal role beyond being the background, everyone is kinda sad, everyone is really fckn tired of Ouma's bs, i aint listing all the characters, like if u didn't expect that then wow, lmao they're vamps what do you expect, ouma can't control his damn impulses, p much everyone is a vampire, saihara didn't ask for this shit, supernatural wars, there'll be a smut chapter but it'll be a seperate oneshot bc this is also on ffnet, vague mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-01-05 17:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12194859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Platinum_Bunny23/pseuds/Platinum_Bunny23
Summary: Vamp AU: The last thing Saihara suspected to happen was being captured by a vampire coven to 'protect' him from demons, whilst in the middle of investigating a murder case. Actually... it was cliche enough that he should've suspected it. And due to the lack of impulse control of the coven leader, Saihara has been dragged into a supernatural war. Just great - lets hope he survives.





	1. Watch your detectives

Being a teen detective was pretty cool.

In theory, that is.

The concept behind it was neat – in between balancing schoolwork, a social life, a job that generally required some form of university education, gaining wicked cool experience for your resume in this modern competitive society, and a level of independence generally awarded to pokemon trainers, this ‘teenage sleuth’ was helping clean up the streets of their city and supplying justice to the public. That sounded very alluring to most.

That is, until you had to step up your case game from ‘child detective’ to ‘awkward-hormonal-kind-of-an-adult-but-with-fewer-rights detective’. Usually, this was just looking into assaults with fairly straight forward, small wounds.

But sometimes, like today, Saihara, had to deal with murder cases.

Saihara had worked on murder cases in the past – albeit only a few, that is. Three to be exact. A poisoning, a point-blank range execution, and a rather grisly stabbing. Though, it doesn’t really compare, in retrospect, to the mess in front of him.

Saihara covered his mouth, struggling not to breathe in the metallic scent of the evisceration and keeping his eyes averted. Jesus – the poor woman didn’t even look like a person anymore. It wasn’t exactly his first time seeing a body at this level of… gore, so he should be able to handle this better, but it was the first time he had dealt with one in _real life_. He’d looked at the files in preparation for today, seen the photos of the previous victims, but… seeing it in real life was a very different experience to say the least. He could hear the other detectives muttering quietly close by; police department officials and private individuals like their own agency.

                “Third one like this, this month.”

                “Christ, really? How many in total?”

                “Uh, first official body was five months ago and, um, all the ones indisputably connected are at nearly twenty. The ones that we aren’t too sure of… _well_.”

                “God damn – no wonder the police are in a panic and pulling all the agencies together to catch the sicko.”

                The conversation was drowned out as Saihara ventured another glance at the body. Bad idea. Turns out, bodies don’t get any less knee-weakening horrific in less than a minute. Saihara raised his eyes to stare up the alleyway to the sliver of indigo sky peeking out and try to let out a steadying exhale. What a nasty place to die – though, there was probably nowhere nice to die, exactly, beyond the stereotype of surrounded by friends and family. But the architectural fat roll of the city, to be found by an unlucky dog walker, was an especially unfortunate spot to end up smeared.

                The teen detective surveyed the detectives crowding around the alley, all sticking close to their colleagues and keeping their eyes averted as the police photographers and other official record-takers swooped about like vultures. Saihara’s uncle was close by and, upon seeing his nephew’s paler than usual complexion, signalled him over.

                Saihara made it over on fawn legs, luckily not stumbling. The last thing he needed was embarrassing himself and the family agency in front of all their respective competition. His uncle rubbed his chin, clearly seeing through Saihara’s cool. “Look, Shuichi, you should probably head home for today – you don’t have to deal with investigating the corpse.”

                “Uncle, I’m not-“

                “If you’re going to say you’re not feeling unwell, save it – you can hardly look at her. Though…” he paused as a detective dashed past holding his mouth whilst looking green, as his senior pursued, barking at him for not having enough guts, “you’ve certainly done better than quite a few older detectives… like you usually do.”

                Saihara’s lips quirked up at the gentle jest and his shoulder relaxed the tiniest bit. “I… I can stay.”

                His uncle shook his head and pressed Saihara’s back to begin steering him to the exit of the alley. “You probably could, but it’s useless. The police recorders and photographers will do a good job and you can read over the case in the comfort of a chair. _Tomorrow_.”

                Seeing as struggling was beyond helping anymore, Saihara gave a resigned sigh. Getting home sounded good right now. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll be in the head office before eight.”

                “Kid, sometimes you really sound like a salaryman and not a boy in his prime. Come around in the afternoon – sleep in and _chill out_ before you come in, got it?”

                “Sure, Uncle.”

                “Then, travel safe and tell your parents I said hi.” Saihara’s uncle gave his nephew a pat on the shoulder before returning into the maw of the bloody alley and leaving the teen in the dazzling city street as nosey pedestrians try to catch a glance of the gore while exchanging thrilled whispers. Saihara was half tempted to shove them away before they could scar themselves, but that was what the burly police men and vibrant orange tape was for.

                Saihara set out, heading for the train station and pulling his cap forward to hide his eyes as his mind began to analyse what’s been happening. Perhaps over twenty murders, all likely committed in a similar fashion, within less than half a year, with a pattern yet to be established or suspects to be picked out. What was the link between the victims? Age? Appearance? Hobby? Routes? Familial connections? Underworld connections? And what about the perpetrator? Is it one person? That seems unlikely – singular serial killers so rarely committed their murders within such a short time span, often having months or years between their next kill. Then, multiple people? An organisation? If so, what is the purpose of their killings? To silence? To spread a message? What if it was copycat killers? Then how did this information of the murders spread?

                Saihara probably shouldn’t be delving so deep in thought as he tried to navigate his way through the station – there was a specific reason why detectives were encouraged to do their work in one select location. Besides having an easy place to store documentation, access resources, and meet up with others, it also meant that detectives wouldn’t easily be interrupted from their train of thought.

By, say, a kidnapper?

* * *

                Human watching wasn’t really one of Ouma’s past times. Nowadays, he rarely got much free time as it was, so he’d rather spend them doing other things than watching fragile mortals mill about and bleat like a sheep who had suddenly realised a wolf killed one of their own. Well, that wasn’t too far off the current situation, actually.

                And Ouma wasn’t exactly on leisure time, per se, if he was to be honest (which he rarely was). Oh no, there was no way he could _possible_ take a break whilst on the brink of a crisis – the earful he’d get if he did. He was on ‘no-one-else-was-available-for-this-and-it’s-too-big-an-issue-to-let-slip’ time. AKA: watch humans find dead humans and try and leech off any information about the culprit and direct the humans on away from the true killer to keep them safe. Not really Ouma’s style.

                That was until one of the detectives caught his eye.

                It wasn’t the stereotypical ‘love at first sight’ feeling, it was more of a ‘jesus, who let this child onto a gorey case?!’ feeling. The teen stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the stubbly, wrinkled, jaded detectives, so it wasn’t hard for Ouma to notice him. Ouma watched over him in curiosity from day one; what on earth lead this youth to be amongst them? Was he a witness for questioning? Then shouldn’t he be brought back to the police station? Some form of apprentice? He was awfully for young for this, then. He looked too fresh-faced to even have left the academy.

                So who was this enigma?

                He first saw ‘Saihara Shuichi’, as he was apparently named, when Ouma was monitoring the police station on the day of the debriefing. Nearly 100 detective agencies, both internal and external of the police department, were assembled to formally have the case explained to them, little over a week ago from when the alleyway woman would be found. It was supposed to be a way for Ouma to extract all the known information the humans had already obtained on the case in order to get a jump start on his own case, but it had been difficult to focus when his eyes kept being drawn to the young man. He had caught a few curious glances from the other detectives and at the break Ouma had heard whispers of ‘teen detective genius’.

                Oh boy, _that_ was certainly interesting.

                One of the perks of being able to distort the perception of weak mortals was that it made it very easy to monitor someone, or as Ouma’s co-leader liked to call it ‘creepily stalk’ – but to be fair, pretty much anything done was considered creepy when your eyes glowed in the dark and had predatory fangs crammed into your mouth. And it wasn’t stalking either! If this Saihara was as legendary as he was whispered about, he was more than certainly a worthy point to monitor in this investigation. That was all.

                But then it wasn’t all.

                Ouma was going to blame it on a lack of company from his fellows during his observations, and watching the same person for pretty much twenty-four hours a day, that resulted in a boredom that rolled into a… favouring for Saihara. It wasn’t too hard, to be honest. The teen was extremely clever, and Ouma was a sucker for those that could unravel a puzzle with ease.

                So it’d be a waste to let this gem be torn up like the unlucky fools the police were struggling to keep their donuts down upon seeing them.

                Ouma could tell that it wouldn’t take too long before his object of observation figured out the supernatural nature of these murders. And then it would inevitably lead to his murder for this taboo discovery. It made Ouma pout at the idea. He didn’t want the youth to be slain for following his nature. Low growls would prickle at his throat each time he followed Saihara and picked up the presence of the soulless beasts. No, no, _back off_ , this one isn’t for you.

                Ouma knew intervening was _very_ against the rules but he was going to give himself an aneurysm if this kept up much longer (could he even get an aneurysm, though?). His bored fantasies had switched from talking and charming the beautiful brainiac to whisking him off to where the circling monsters couldn’t reach him.

                Aw screw it, Ouma thought by day seven. Fuck letting those nasty demons getting their claws on his human. He’d just solve the whole issue by doing exactly as he wanted. Who the fuck was going to stop him anyway?

                On the evening when the next murder was discovered, Ouma decided to launch his plan. Any lingering doubts were dashed when he saw how Saihara did his best to keep himself together despite the carnage. How sweet – he wasn’t used to blood. Ouma’s lips licked at the thought of getting the detective desensitised to the sight with his own ‘training’. His thoughts even scandalously danced around the idea of enthrallment – now wouldn’t _that_ be fun!

                He knew the route his query would take and followed just a few meters behind. He could try and pull the detective away once they were alone, but that was a difficult feat in the sleepless city, and it was a rather primitive and callous plan – no way to get off on the right foot.

                No, his plan would work easily in the crowd of the train station. Ouma picked up his step to keep up the long stride of his prey. He surpassed him and turned his head back, making direct eye contact with the detective. The last thing the mortal saw before his mind blacked out was violet, reptilian eyes. The entranced human’s pace slowed, until Ouma tilted his head and continued his walk. Obediently, the detective followed behind, looking like a merely drained high schooler to any of the commuters who bothered to glance their way.

                The two stepped onto one of the trains and that was the last known sighting of Saihara Shuichi for weeks.

* * *

                Saihara woke up to a deep pounding in his head and the same feeling in his whole body when one was tangled in seaweed while swimming. He couldn’t even move a single joint in his fingers, finding it taxing just to focus on controlling his breathing. His eyes remained closed and he groggily heard the sound of yelling – though garbled as though heard from the other side of water, as cliché as it sounded.

                He couldn’t pick out what was being said, beyond a few words, but he could certainly hear the emotion behind the voices.

                There was a woman’s voice, or maybe a girl’s; young nonetheless. She spoke the most, and sounded furious and exasperated, like a mother whose child had knocked over every piece of decoration in a tantrum – no, more like a mom friend who had witnessed their friend pull some bullshit; a mother would keep her language controlled and try and supress the tone of outrage.

                Then there was a boy’s voice – definitely a boy’s since it didn’t have quite the aged timbre his older colleagues had. It sounded more like his classmates, so the speaker was probably also a teen, and was likely the source of this mom-friend’s worry. Saihara struggled to hear their voice since it wasn’t spoken at the same volume as the other’s. It was flippant and nonchalant at the anger from the others, and Saihara heard multiple times “it’s _fine_ ” which only seemed to make the other speakers all the more _not fine_. Saihara briefly wandered what on earth this boy did to frustrate the others so, and if this was a regular occurrence.

                Saihara could hear a cacophony of other voices who spoke in support of the mom friend and in varying levels of agitation. They spoke too infrequently and were too wide a range of voices for Saihara to pick out specific ones and give attributes to, but there seemed to be at least over ten. They ranged from a small girl’s grumbles, to the rancorous snarls from adult men, from polite reprimands, to imaginative combinations of cusses. It seemed that the boy had really stuffed in their opinion.

                Then Saihara slipped back into unconsciousness with no room for anymore analysis of the situation.

* * *

                The next time Saihara awoke, he was at least able to pry open his eyes. He had been startled out of his slumber by the load boom of books hitting the floor and a sudden hiss of swears. Saihara peered between his lids at a figure bending over large volumes that had tumbled to the floor from their desk, and Saihara could blearily make out the shapes of extensive tables – was it some kind of accounts book? The figure raised their head and froze when they saw that their roommate was very much awake.

                Saihara hadn’t been known to lucid dream, but as he stared at the man made of smooth metal, that was the only fathomable option. The… _automaton?_ Gasped and straightened up, letting their previously collected books fall back onto the thick floor carpeting. They shifted on the balls of their feet for a moment before they swivelled around and _sprinted_ from the room.

                With nothing to hold his attention, Saihara’s rest-starved brain pulled him back into dormancy.

* * *

                The next awakening was probably the rudest yet, and was thankfully the last for now.

                “Ouma, with all due respect, you’re a fucking dumb ass.”

                “Aww, Akamatsu, so mean.”

                “Can you be serious for _one_ minute, for fuck sake!”

                “Gees, Akamastu, what’s got you so worked up?”

                “ _The same thing as usual – your complete and utter bullshit_.”

                Saihara opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of two people, who he was fortunately able to label to the two prominent voices he had heard in his first waking. One, the girl, was a blonde who had an arm thrown back to gesture where Saihara was currently lying, and had a look of utter aggravation on her face as she glared at her companion. The boy was smaller than her and had a cheeky smile spread across his face, looked the same age as the other two room occupants, and vibrant purple eyes and hair – he seemed undeterred by the blonde’s fury.

                “You bring an unaffiliated _human_ into our coven because you got a god damn _crush_ on him! And then you thought you could walk free of the consequences?!” The blonde yelled, her mauve eyes practically lighting up in her shouting. “And not just any human, but one that will be _certainly_ noticed when he vanished off the face off the fucking pla-aaaaah.” The girl trailed off into a small awkward hum when she realised that Saihara was awake and looking directly at her.

                The boy poked his head from behind her and his smile grew even brighter on seeing the detective. “Oh! Saihara! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

                It was then that Saihara’s sleepy brain finally caught up with what was happening and realised: he was in an unfamiliar location with a pair of very much strangers who were discussing what sounded _all too much like kidnapping_.

                So who was to blame him when Saihara let out a bloodcurdling scream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Future chapters should be much longer, I mostly blitzed through this chapter to get it finished earlier so I could get it uploaded for the first release date. Guess who is an Australian who has to wait for the 6th for ndrv3 release? And guess when the next chapter is aimed to be uploaded?


	2. Saihara's existential crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara has an existential crisis

The two kidnappers winced at the scream from Saihara, quickly sending glances at the door to check it was indeed shut. Saihara had thrown off the blanket covering himself and had stood up on the bed, back against the wall. His scream tapered off into heavy, panicked breathing. “Who are you?! Where am I?!”

                His two captors exchanged a look, with the girl biting her lip as she deliberated over something. “Ah, Saihara Shuichi, was it? I-!”

                “How do you know my name? What do you want from me?!” Saihara demanded. He appraised the two; the boy was practically miniscule, looking like nothing but bone, but the girl had a significantly stronger frame and may pose a threat if Saihara made an attempt to escape. But then again, Saihara glanced at the dark wooden door, the chances that these two were the only ones at, _wherever_ this was, were slim.

                “I know this must all be very frightening for you but-“

                “Wow, you’re even cuter up close, Saihara~!” chirped the purple headed boy, cutting off the blonde.

                All three paused at the interruption, exchanging confused glances – Saihara’s were bewildered, the blonde’s seemed exasperated, whilst the boy’s seemed to just be amused surprise at their reaction. The blonde girl gave the longest-suffering sigh that Saihara had ever heard, even worse than the older detectives would give in the midst of a migraine, and she promptly turned to the boy and picked him up by the back of his shirt. Saihara watched, in the same amount of awe one would watch a train wreck, as the girl carried the squirming and protesting boy over to the door, opened it one handed, grasped the bottom of the boy’s shirt in her now free hand, and promptly tossed the boy outside in the same way a bouncer would a drunk troublemaker, before shutting the door firmly.

                Who the hell was this girl?

                Saihara wouldn’t call himself a people person, but he certainly hadn’t ever met a girl who could pick a boy up one handed and toss him like a bag of apples. Oh great. If she could do that, then she was probably hiding muscles underneath that sweater, and the chances she was trained to fight had suddenly skyrocketed – meaning she could very well kick Saihara’s ass. Good thing he hadn’t made a break for it.

                The girl inhaled, visibly doing the mental countdown from ten, before she turned to Saihara with a small smile, that might’ve been reassuring if Saihara hadn’t just seen her manhandle her companion. She took a step towards the bed and Saihara pressed his back to the wall even further, gulping. Oh Jesus. Nu-uh, he wasn’t doing this. “Saihara? Are you alright?”

                The penny dropped in Saihara’s mind. Oh. Oh boy. Did he really get captured by the murderers? Was he kidnapped for taking part in the investigation? Is that how they had come to learn his name? Would he be held as ransom? Killed? Forced to throw the investigation? He had to be underground – this room didn’t have any windows and that’d make it a prime crime base. But what organisation had teens in it dealing with the prisoner? Then again, in retrospect, what were the police doing having a teen on their investigation team? Though it wasn’t farfetched that teens would be involved in illegal activity, but the two had been dressed respectably with no seeming links to their outfits – no gang colors or clan crests. Just what on earth was going on here?

                The blonde was watching Saihara with apprehension and slowly made a patting motion in an attempt to placate him. “Ah, please calm down, no one here has any intention of hurting you-“

                “Then why capture me? Release me!” Saihara retorted.

                The girl’s smile twitched apologetically. “I’m sorry, but that’s not at all possible right now. I-“

                “Why not?!” Ok, Saihara knew he shouldn’t be panicking. He should be keeping his cool and stay level headed in such an unknown situation; his uncle had made sure to educate him on what to do in these situations should they ever arise – but _oh boy this was legitimately terrifying_. “What do you want? Where am I? Who are you people? Wh-“

                “ _Enough.”_

Saihara’s whole body slumped and if it wasn’t for the girl swiftly stepping forward to catch him and lowering him to the bed, Saihara would’ve probably knocked himself out from hitting the floor and gone back to sleep again. But the thought never even entered his brain. All he could hear was…

_Music?_

Saihara slid his golden eyes to meet the girl’s pink eyes. They were watching him intently, seeming almost aglow. Saihara relaxed into her grasp as he stared, his mind being filled with the tranquil sounds of a piano playing a gentle, classical melody. He swore he’d heard the song before, but not being very well versed on music, he couldn’t place it. He felt her pat his head, matching perfectly to the beat, and further making Saihara’s will turn to jelly. His heartbeat slowed to further match and his eyes grew heavy – if he wasn’t careful, he could very well fall asleep like this. He felt safe, none of his previous fears even stirring. Why should he be worried? This girl was so calming, Saihara felt as though as long as she kept patting his hair, there would never be anything to worry about ever again.

                “My name is Akamatsu Kaede. Nice to meet you, Saihara Shuichi.” She paused to let the detective grunt out the general sound of the returned pleasantries. “You’re in my home right now. That boy before was Ouma Kokichi; he’s my co-worker. He… um, I’m not sure how to put this… persuaded? No, um, lead? Ah… oh well, he coerced you into coming here, although you don’t remember it.” She waited to see if he had any objections. Oh? So he came here against his will? Ah well, things happen, it was all inconsequential compared to the waltz of the music. “You’re a detective, right?”

                “Mmm…”

                “You were investigating a homicide case, correct?”

                “Yeah.” Saihara gave a small sigh as he relaxed further, if that was even possible.

                Akamatsu slowed her hand and she blinked. Saihara blinked as well, feeling a cold shiver go down his spine that had the same effect of drinking a sugary drink – refreshing and alerting. Akamatsu hummed and pulled her arms out from where she was semi-cradling Saihara. “Ouma was monitoring the situation for us, when he met you. He… _we_ know who the killer is, but they are much too dangerous for the police to handle.” She patted the back of his hand, and Saihara was suddenly sharply aware of how quiet the room was. Where did that music come from? He couldn’t hear anything outside so the room had to be soundproofed and the room was too bare to be hiding a speaker – a hidden one maybe?

                “Wha-?”

                Akamatsu continued regardless. “Due to the… _dangerous_ nature of the killer, Ouma had taken it upon himself to provide you… _safety_ , regardless of your own opinions on the matter. This doesn’t reflect the nature of the rest of us, and Ouma will certainly be punished for his actions. However…”

                “However?” Saihara pushed himself into a sitting position, ice settling in his stomach. The feeling of danger had returned and seeing how Akamatsu had calmed him so easily was disconcerting. Whatever he was dealing was bigger than your run of the mill gang or mafia.

                Akamatsu ran a hand through her bangs to push them back and gave another sigh – at this rate he’d be able to recognise her by her exasperated exhales alone. “Because Ouma has brought you into our home, we can’t let you go.”

                “E-excuse me?”

                “I don’t know how well versed you are in what is truly going on, but I’ll keep it simple: because you’ve been in a vampire coven and spent so much close contact to vampires, even though it’s only been a day you’ve been asleep, you reek of us now. The demons, the ones who have been killing humans, will be able to track you down easily. You will be tortured for information on our coven location, any information of the nobles, and disposed of as you’ve witness once you’re no longer useful – or worse.” She gave a grimace and low chuckle, “plus I’m not sure Ouma wouldn’t kidnap you again if we did let you go.”

                Saihara blinked. He heard what she said, yes, but he didn’t process it. This sounded like a stupidly cliché, formulaic urban fantasy story, usually with a reader insert of a protagonist. Did she really mean vampire _vampires_? No – that would be foolish to assume. It was more likely the name of a group. And demons? Had to be another gang – a rival group. Vampires and Demons. In that context things made a _whole_ lot more sense. They were in the midst of some kind of war, or perhaps they had a consistent rivalry, and now that Saihara had been brought into the stronghold of the Vampires, he’d become the target of the Demons and likely executed. And this is because Ouma, the purple haired boy who had just been flung out of the room, had come to favour Saihara? And if the Demons were a criminal group, the motive behind the murders became a lot clearer – executions; punishment for betraying, not-so-empty threats against friends and family enacted, witnesses, meddlers, whistleblowers, etc.

                Akamatsu waved a hand over his face. “Saihara? I know this is a lot to take in at once but I need you to understand.” She placed her hand over his and made direct eye contact. Saihara felt himself sweat under the gaze; he’d never considered pink a threatening colour, but in this situation, he couldn’t imagine anything more fear-inspiring. It’d also make sense now her capability in being able to easily handle the other boy, Ouma – gangs always needed their fighters. “Do you understand?”

                Saihara swallowed but nodded. “I… I understand.” Right, right, he couldn’t panic again. Panic would raise suspicion and if she was truly capable of not also handing his ass to him, but being able to perform some kind of hypnotism to turn him docile, he wasn’t going to benefit from getting worked up.

                Akamatsu gave a sigh of relief and rose so she was standing. “Alright. You came in unconscious early last night and have been asleep since then. You’ve gotta be hungry. I’ll take you to get some food.”

                Saihara rose unsteadily. “What time is it now?”

                “Nearly sunset – I haven’t gotten much sleep, actually…” Akamatsu frowned and tapped under her eyes to feel for any puffy bags. She stepped forward and opened the door, poking her head out. It seemed the boy from before had scurried off to wherever he had come from. “But that means at the very least that the rest of the coven won’t be up for a little bit.”

                Saihara patted down his clothes, straightening them out before slowly following Akamatsu. She nodded after double checking he was with her, then stepped out into the corridor. The corridors were dimly lit, with lights every ten minutes to keep the plush red carpeting visible beneath their feet – it also didn’t help that the dark wood panelling seemed to drain even more light. Saihara peered at the shallow carvings, just being able to make out scenes of trees and animal life. Wow – these guys must be pretty big vampire fans if they were willing to go to these pretty tacky extents. Which remind him: he needed to start getting confirmation about some of the stuff going around here. The sooner he had a clearer picture, the better he could formulate an escape.

                “So, uh, Akamatsu?”

                The blonde turned and she gave a closed lipped smile. “I know this is a little unorthodox for Japan, but I’d prefer being called just Kaede.”

                Saihara nodded mutely. So Aka- _Kaede_ was foreign? Or she’d grown up overseas? He glanced over, trying to pick out what her nationality might be. He couldn’t detect any accents in her voice, but her syllables were rather rigid – maybe she had her accent trained out of her? That’d make sense – accents were easy to notice and would make you more identifiable, which wouldn’t be very beneficial for a criminal. However, beyond her blonde hair and mauve eyes, she didn’t look like a foreigner. Maybe European, actually? She could be half – that was probably the likeliest explanation. At a glance, she only looked like a fashionable, respectable high schooler with her pink, comfy sweater and music note skirt – actually, even staring longer than a glance, she still didn’t look suspicious.

                “ _Kaede_.” He tested her name. It was a Japanese name for sure, but it very well could be an alias. He jolted when he she turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, um, what exactly is your… _position_ in this… group?” Not the smoothest but at least it was better than nothing.

                She rolled her shoulders and gave a sheepish giggle. “I’m second in command.”

                “ _Oh._ ”

                “Aha, yeah.” She consciously tried to settle a stray bit of hair, grimacing. “Ouma’s the coven leader.”

                Ah, so that explained why the purple haired boy had gotten the idea into his head to take Saihara without hesitation – he had a whole gang under his control. But still, what kind of gang was this if their leader was a scrawny, pint sized, imp-looking boy, and their second in command a girl who looked like she preferred spending her evenings in her family home petting a fluffy white dog and texting, than being in a gang. Actually; where were their parents? Was this a sub-division of a larger group? Were their parents or guardians in the larger group?

                “So, these Demons are a rival group?” He took a stab.

                “I wouldn’t call them rivals, exactly. They’re more of a thorn in our side. But I guess they’re worse than the hunters.” Kaede muttered idly, turning left in an intersection to an equally dark corridor. This damn place looked all the same; if it was animated, the background animators would have a breeze with just being able to loop it all – how did anyone figure out this labyrinth?

                “Hunters?” Another group, huh? Was this also a teen-run one? With their choice in names it could very easily be.

                “They’re just a bunch of old fools thinking they’re putting a dent in our population, but are really just helping keep the rogue numbers down.” Ok, so maybe they were actually the code name for the police?

                “Do the Hunters go after the Demons too?”

                “Yeah, they’re their main target.” Ok, so, that meant that the Vampires likely kept their activities minimal or were better at hiding it, whilst the Demons were in the public eye. This would also tie in with the Demons being the true killers, if, the Hunters being the police, were after them.

                “How many Vampires are there?”

                “Um, in our coven? A few hundred?”

                _What?_ Oh wow, that was _a lot_. And the way she had said coven implied they weren’t the only one. So there were other branches of the same group? Oh great, this was even bigger than he expected. How long had this group been operating? And how had they escaped the notice of the authorities for so long? What did this group even deal in? Drugs? Hooliganism?

                Saihara was interrupted from his chain of thought as Kaede finally paused to open a grand foyer, with strong emphasis on the _grand_. Wow, Saihara thought as he slowed to take it all in, this was either beautiful or also grossly tacky. It was completely marble; the stairs, the pillars, the floor, the walls – all polished to shine. The walls were decorated with oil paintings of likely long dead people in regalia, and even a few large tapestries depicting scenes from greek and roman myths. Saihara’s eyes fixed onto a small golden tapestry near his head, which suspiciously looked like byssus – but there was no way a bunch of teens would be in possession of _byssus_ , right? The door they came out was on a second-floor balcony, with an impossibly grandiose staircase leading down to the lower area that could’ve fit Saihara’s apartment five times, with archways leading off to other areas of the base. God, what do these kids do to afford a base like this? Sell mega-drugs?

                Kaede glanced over from where she was already at the staircase. “You coming?”

                “H-huh? Oh, yeah, mmm.”

                Kaede glanced around at the millions of dollars decoration. “Yeah, it’s probably a bit much to take in at first. The kitchens are just down here, to the left.” She gestured to one of the archways and Saihara fell back into step with her.

                Saihara had to carefully pad across the marbled floor to stop his feet sliding out from underneath him from how waxed the floor was. God good, it was like walking on ice. Saihara gripped at the end of the staircase railing, ready to push himself across the room to Kaede, when he glanced over at how Kaede easily tapped across the marbling. She walked with such ease, it was like she was floating – he could barely even hear her shoes as they made contact with the floor. Actually, he hadn’t heard her make a sound when they were in corridors beyond her speaking. Saihara decided to store this bit of observation; was her quietness part of stealth training?

                Kaede giggled as Saihara managed to slide over, steadying him and pulling him to the archway, where the ground was fortunately more stable. It hid two extra doorways, one labelled kitchen, and the other dining room, in the same dark wood as all the other doors. It also suspiciously looked liked it was made of ebony – another item that should be outside their price range. “What does your gang do to earn all this money?” Saihara asked, feeling exasperated by this bold display of wealth.

                “Gang? We’re not a gang.” Kaede frowned in confusion. She turned to the kitchen door, resting a hand on the handle, but kept her eyes trained on Saihara. “What do you think we are?”

                It was then that Saihara realised Kaede had never explicitly stated they were in fact a gang, and it had come purely from his own deductions. “Um, you were saying how you were in fight with a rival group, called Demons, and how your group is called Vampires, and so-“

                “We _are_ vampires.” Kaede then gave a small scoff and brushed the hair out of her face. “Aha, I had been wondering why you seemed so relaxed about hearing that we were supernaturals.”

                “W-what? I-!” Ok, so either these guys were super fanatics of vampires, or Saihara had finally worked himself into exhaustion.

                “We’re real vampires.” Kaede laughed and smiled, her first one that didn’t have her lips closed, and Saihara could very clearly see the two predatory points protruding from her upper arch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve gotten some really lovely comments for the previous chapter – y’all are too sweet! I’m trying to head back into my weekly uploads on Fridays, like I did last year, so to also give me room to upload other one-shots and stuff, DFB will be uploaded fortnightly (I hope), so the next projected update for this should be the 20th. Follow me on tumblr at SilverHeartCreations to see when/what I update. Thanks for reading!  
> PS: In my notes for this chapter, I put it down that Kaede throws Ouma out in the same way as the “I can’t swim”/”How old are you?” vine  
> 


	3. Right on, Galaxy Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara is gonna have an aneurysm if this keeps up

Saihara’s brain completely shut down on seeing Kaede’s fangs. Fangs. _Fangs._ Fangs were the symbol of a predator. Predators hunted, maimed, killed and ate. Kaede was a predator. Oh god. _Oh god_.

“Ah, there was the reaction I was expecting…” Kaede closed her mouth, hiding the fangs, and ushered the stupefied boy into the kitchen. “C’mon, we’ll get you something to eat and we’ll sort out things from there.”

The kitchen was fortunately brighter lit than the corridors and foyer had been, with long industrial florescent lights and shiny steel. There was an archway on the other side of the room, to what was presumably the dining hall, where Saihara could just see the edge of what looked like another grossly decadent room. The kitchen was actually a bit of a sight for sore eyes with its simple white counters and cupboards, black tile floors and walls. Minimalistic and familiar. It actually looked like a semi-commercial showroom of a kitchen.

As in, it looked mostly unhabituated.

As if reading his thoughts, Kaede shut the door behind him and made her way to the double French door fridge. “We don’t actually store that much proper food, as not many of us actually _eat_.” And on que, she opened the door of the fridge and Saihara was greeted with the sight of a hospital worth of blood bags. _Oh boy_. He could see little ticks on the bags in black sharpie, but he was gravitating too fast to the furthest wall from his blonde guide in his horror to read it. He probably didn’t want to know what they were checking off, actually. “We, um, do have _some_ food safe for a human, I think.” Kaede knelt down to begin pushing bags aside to search for something, _preferably non-liquid._

“Ah, ok.”

This was absurd. Saihara had to be dreaming, or he had finally snapped from overworking and had suddenly achieved an altered perception of reality. But he had never known himself to be a lucid dreamer, so that meant he had gone crazy. Great. Now how was he supposed to do detective work? Or maybe he was just dealing with some crazy, fanatics of vampires that also committed crimes. Actually, the whole Demons thing could possibly be an illusion of _whatever_ this cult was, and they had been hunting people all along to further emulate their supernatural idols. Actually, that made more sense. The fangs were relatively easy to explain – you could make fangs with fake stick-ons or filing them down.

“Oh!” Kaede gave a victorious giggle as she emerged from where she was elbow deep in plastic and blood, a yellow can in hand that might be a can of preserved fruit. But judging by the hand-painted looking nature of the package art, it was likely way over date. Kaede seemed to realise this and quickly checked the date. “1945… oops.” She put it up on the bench and resumed her search. “Aha, I guess it’s pretty obvious how rarely we actually eat, isn’t it? The ones who eat are usually recently turned fledglings who are still mentally adjusting to blood, but we haven’t had anyone turned in a _long_ time.”

“Turned? Fledglings?” New members, possibly? But that didn’t explain how _anyone_ had a World War era can in their fridge. This whole room looked very modern, so that meant someone had actually put the can into the fridge and-!

Wait…

_Who puts unopened cans in the fridge?_

This was probably the most surreal thing that ever happened to Saihara. Ok, not the _can_ thing, exactly, but the whole situation. It wasn’t like he had much contact with the surreal to begin with, but he doubted anyone had ever been in a situation where they were questioning if they were kidnapped by vampire fanatics or their entire grasp on reality had been slapped out of their hands. Both, worryingly, somewhat explained why someone would put an unopened can in a fridge.

“Kaede, s-can you go… go over all this one more ti-!”

“Kaede~!”

“Hey, Akama- OHO!”

Saihara’s perception on reality was further damaged when two people entered the room. He would say they were bizarre, but frankly, Saihara was starting to feel like the bizarre one. One of the figures was a tall man, or well, more of a teen, dressed in galaxy patterned pants, had a giant, purple jacket thrown over his shoulders with further galaxy patterning on the inner lining, slippers and was missing a shirt – he looked like a man who had gotten out of bed in a rush due to an evacuation, complete with bed-head messy purple hair. Galaxy-man was followed by a somewhat diminutive girl with dark skin, pearl-white hair, a bikini, a yellow raincoat and a batman utility belt of art supplies, and a grin that echoed an ancestral primal fear in Saihara’s subconscious of evil pixies – which wasn’t helped by the fact that she didn’t have the two upper-row fangs that Kaede had, but all her teeth were razor sharp like a shark’s.

That was all Saihara was able to absorb before the two were gone and Saihara had been pushed away from the wall, and was being rapidly circled in what felt like a tornado. He heard a loud bang as Kaede had banged her head against one of the upper shelves of the fridge in her haste to stand and greet the two visitors, followed by the flat sound of what was probably the blood bags slapping to the floor – Saihara hoped they didn’t burst.

“Angie! Kaito! What are you two doing up?”

Galaxy-man slowed long enough for Saihara’s eyes to readjust from the purple and yellow blur, and for him to answer Kaede. “I was up to check out the early evening constellations.” Right on, Galaxy-man. He had a thick accent, some of his syllables blending together, that Saihara couldn’t quite place the origin – but that could be from the dizzying spinning he was just subjected to watch. The other male looked down at Saihara with a toothy, sorry, _fangy_ smile, and Saihara felt like he was going to throw up, whether from the two circling him like steroid sharks, or from the fangs, was to be decided. Probably a good thing his stomach was still empty right now. “I saw you walking with Sumahamura? Sawakawa? Saida? _The human_ and wanted to get a proper look at him.”

“Angie never went to sleep! I was working on my sculptures!” The bikini clad pixie laughed as she clasped her hands together. “Angie also wanted to see what the human was like awake!” Ok, now Saihara was _really_ grateful he hadn’t eaten in well over twenty-four hours, the sight of her shark-teeth was going to make him faint. Also, great, they were talking about him like he wasn’t even there – _not_ a good sign.

Kaede ruffled her hair and gave a resigned nod. “I know you’re all excited, but you know how Ryouma and Tenko feel about more of us interacting with him than necessary.” Who and who now?

“Aww.” Angie, the pixie girl, pouted and poked at her lip with the end of a paint-splattered brush. “Angie just thought that he might provide God with a new direction for my pieces.” She holstered her brush and was then was right in front of Saihara, paint-crusted hands grasping his head and tilting his head every which way in awe, looking ready to poke her finger into the corner of his mouth to examine his blunt teeth.

Before that could happen, Kaede was gently pulling Angie back by the shoulders. Ok, so, Saihara hadn’t heard her move at all, and he certainly hadn’t seen her move around the island counters to reach him. So either Kaede was a ghost, or she had vampiric speed. And for that matter, the other two had certainly exhibited such attributes. Saihara had to accept these little facts, or else he was going to have a fucking stroke. “Now, now, we don’t need to _overwhelm him_.” Kaede gave a nervous laugh, as if Saihara wasn’t already on another plane of mental existence at this point.

“Don’t worry, Akamatsu, we’ll tell the others about him so they won’t come looking. Yumeno will be excited to have access to fresh blood for spells, and Maki will be glad knowing she didn’t have to directly interact with him – actually, a lot of them are going to be wanting to stay away… _and_ a lot will want to examine him too.” Galaxy-man gave a gruff laugh, which only seemed to hammer Saihara further away from reality with the name-drops.

“Right, um, could you two tell the others that Saihara will be introduced to them gradually? I, uh, don’t want to rush him.” Kaede glanced a worried look at Saihara’s spaced out gaze. When neither made a move to go, she added, “Now, please? Before anyone else comes knocking.” And the duo shrugged and left as quickly they arrived, which to put bluntly, _was a fucking instant_.

Saihara staggered over to the island countertops and flopped against at nearly the same time as Kaede. They both gave a unison sigh of relief and exhaustion and shared a rest for a moment. For a long pause, they just laid against the cool stone… metal? Who cared; it was steadying. After several moments of slowing their breathing, the calm was broken from a rumble.

Kaede’s head snapped up so fast, Saihara was afraid she’d get whiplash – could vampires, even get whiplash from their speed, theoretically (regardless if Kaede was one)? Her eyes were wide and they darted around the room, and to a mixture of Saihara’s amazement, horror, and apathy, turned cat-like and slitted. Super, he was already starting to not care about this stuff. “What was that?” She barked.

Oh, ok, she had been a _vampire_ for so long she’d forgotten that human stomachs growled in hunger. “Hungry… sorry.” Saihara mumbled, too tired to respond much more. He’d been awake for around ten minutes and already he felt about ready for another day-passing nap. Probably didn’t help he had come to terms with being kidnapped by a gang, then coming to slowly accept the supernatural existed, and finally accepting he’d been kidnapped by a supernatural gang.

“Oh!” Kaede slapped her hand to her forehead. “Right! Food!” She turned back to the fridge and began another probably fruitless search in between the bags. Saihara gave a small groan and flopped his head against the counter again, legs about ready to give out and let him sink to the floor.

_Click, clack, **clank**_

Ok, what the fuck was that now? He could hear something metallic approaching, from what sounded like the dining hall. Don’t tell him, these vampires had a giant fucking dinosaur made of antique clocks that ran off liquid gold, didn’t they? He flitted his gaze back at Kaede, but she seemed too busy in her hunt to actually notice whatever was coming, as she was nearly shoulder buried in blood – ok, seriously, how deep was this fridge? Should he warn her?

Turns out, Saihara had been in the ballpark of his predictions, when a man made of metal entered the room. He was made of silver, black and a few bronze metals, had white, rigid hair, delicately carved features, a glow within his chest that Saihara would bet money was a power source, and was wearing an expression of curiosity and apprehension.

Ok, _alright,_ Saihara was looking at a medieval android, who was looking back at _him_ like Saihara was the oddity. Sure, this day, or night, or whatever, wasn’t going to get any more surprising to him to be honest.

Something clicked in Saihara’s brain and he realised he recognised the mechanical doll from his second-waking. So, that probably helped soften the blow. Maybe. He was looking a tin man, regardless, so y’know, that was still pretty wild.

“Uh, hi?” Saihara ventured weakly. Please don’t be hostie, please don’t be weird, please don’t be stupidly fast.

There was another loud smack as Kaede had tried to pull away and stand up whilst still too deep in the fridge, and another few blood bags escaped their icey prison. Kaede rubbed her head as she spun around, but visibly relaxed when she saw who it was. “Kiibo!”

Hope? Was this robot called _Hope_? In Japanese too? Wait, hold on, all the vampires he had seen so far had Japanese names, but so far he had only heard Kaede speak perfectly so-!

“I thought you might need some help.” Kiibo left the safety of the archway and inched his way over to Kaede, his eyes (They probably weren’t cameras, right?) trained on Saihara.

Kaede nodded and gestured to the fridge, before ducking down to begin putting the blood bags back inside it. “Yeah, I’m trying to get him some food, but I’m having difficulty find anything from this century.” She glanced back at Saihara and flinched. “Right, I should probably introduce you two: Saihara, this Kiibo, or K1-B0, as he’s called overseas. He assists me and Ouma in a lot of areas, where the two of us aren’t able to cover.”

She paused to let the automaton to mumble out, “Well, it’s not like he’s that hardworking to begin with.”

“Kiibo, this is Saihara Shuichi. He’s the human that Ouma found was working on the demon case.”

“Pleasure to meet up, Saihara.”

“Likewise, uh, Kibou.”

“Aha,” Kiibo gave a small laugh, his shoulders lowering a bit, “Long ‘i’ sound, and short ‘o’ sound. The others thought it was funny when he first learnt Japanese, but it gets a bit confusing, when someone _does_ mean to say hope. Now,” he turned back to Kaede, “you’re not going to find anything edible for humans in the fridge.”

“I found this can, didn’t I?”

“ _What did I just say?”_

* * *

                Saihara slowly munched on a breakfast sandwich of eggs and ham, looking at his two seatmates in the dining hall. Kaede was sipping from one of the blood bags, looking around the room and had one hand covering most of the bag, probably to pretend she wasn’t sitting right across from a very viable food source, but failing due to her sucking on a scarlet straw. Kiibo was looking at the enormous dark wood table, which fit right in with the rest of the gaudy-expensive décor of the dining room, and was tracing out invisible patterns with an armoured finger.

                “So, uh, Kiibo,” Saihara gulped, trying his best to start up a conversation. God, this silence was oppressive. Think, think, there had to be something to start a conversation with! Again, Saihara’s lack of social skills was tripping him up. “What… um, Kiibo, are you made of-?”

                “Yep.”

                Kaede made eye contact with Saihara and mouthed ‘touchy subject’ before returning to drinking her bag-o-blood. Saihara nodded and went back to his sandwich, mulling over the events of what had happened and trying to properly process it all.

                What the hell had he gotten himself into?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another relatively short chapter. Pros: I can pump these out faster. Cons: they small and not as satisfying as a 13k chapter finished. I’d planned this all out before I wrote chapter 1, but in retrospect, ch2+3 would’ve done well in the one chapter. Next update: 3rd
> 
> PS: I stuffed up the title of the last chapter for a whole day before I realised my mistake… and I put the wrong notes… that’s what I get for binge-writing the two chapters together… late at night…
> 
> Also my game finally arrived this Monday HOLLA


	4. Kiibo Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara bonds with Kiibo and I clunkily shove world building down your throats

After they finished their breakfast, Kaede took her blood bag and Saihara’s plate and dashed back to the kitchen’s, flitting back with barely a pause. “Saihara, I’d love to continue accompanying you and introducing you to everyone, but unfortunately I have some admin stuff to do… especially due to your arrival.” You mean kidnapping? “So, Kiibo?”

“Yes?” The automaton turned to the blonde, finally perking up. God, what a mystery he was. Heck, did he even count as a he? How was he powered? Did he use coal? Electricity? Saihara wasn’t a tech-head but he definitely wanted to see how such a being was built. And how did he have a personality? If the whole supernatural thing was true, then was Kiibo possibly a…?

“Can you take care of Saihara for me, please?” Kaede clapped her hands together and turned pleading mauve eyes on Kiibo. “I really need to discuss some strategies with Ouma,” she paused to let Kiibo give a derisive snort, “I know, I know, but it’s necessary. Can you do that?”

Kiibo flickered an eye (Saihara was really going have to find out more about how Kiibo was built, it was screwing with him) and gave a small smile when he saw Saihara’s unsettled expression. “Yeah; it should be fine.” He put his hands over Kaede’s, causing Saihara to wonder if the metal was warm, and gave a reassuring nod. “He’ll be safe with me.”

 _Safe_? Safe from _what?_

Kaede withdrew her hands and bit her lip, a tinsy fang-point just visible over reddened lips. “Actually… could you maybe try and keep him away from the other vampires? He’s been in contact with Momota and Angie already but… he looked ready to faint.”

“No problem – away from all fledglings, minors, majors and nobles, correct?” Kiibo rose from his seat and put a hand on his hip.

“And Ouma, of course.”

Kiibo chuckled, which sounded strange with its distinctly metallic-hollow reverberation. “Of course.”

Kaede gave another relieved sigh, and Saihara couldn’t help but hope that she got some kind of spa day – she sounded beyond stressed. “Thanks; just wait until I give the all clear, alright?” She straightened out her clothes and nodded in satisfaction.

“Understood – enjoy your meeting.” Kiibo waved as Kaede groaned and glided out of the room.

Saihara was then very much aware he’d been left alone with a creature he didn’t have a proper understanding on… actually he didn’t understand what Kaede was, nor the situation at hand, to be honest. “So, uh, Kiibo.” Shit, shit, what the fuck do you say. What was appropriate? What wouldn’t make things awkward? What do you say to your babysitter robot? Do you ask their preference in music? Did he like jazz? Maybe he liked MCR? _Saihara didn’t know what to say_.

Saihara nearly fell out of his chair when Kiibo was at his side and offering his hand. _Jesus_ , did _everyone_ here move like a goddamn ghost? “Saihara? I hope you don’t mind, but seeing that can has made me very worried about the adequacy of the kitchens in catering for a human. Do you mind helping me check over all the food?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Saihara took the robot’s hand and was lifted to his feet. The hand was warm.

 _Wait_. If they were worried that the food was no good, _maybe Saihara shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich._

Turns out, Kiibo had at least checked the expiration dates on all the things for the sandwich, _thank god._ The veteran can was disposed of, along with a few other items that had been forgotten. Saihara glanced back at the fridge filled with blood bags and the chances of his kidnappers were just fanatics was seeming slimmer and slimmer. He kinda wished it was a cult, as that was easier to understand than the _supernatural_ ; but then again, Saihara didn’t want to be kidnapped by a cult either. As Kiibo threw a bag of trash into the chute, Saihara decided to voice one final clarification.

“So… you guys are _really_ vampires?”

“Yeah? I thought that Kaede already went over this?”

Saihara leant against the counter and glanced over the impeccable kitchen. Ok, so, for the time being, he was going to accept the notion he was held captured by a horde of vampires. “Hmm, kinda?”

A bag of some kind of chip burst, spraying dust over the counter. The robot startled at the salt-cloud and whipped out a dustpan from one of the counter-cupboards and rapidly captured the escaped crumbs, before disposing of them. Kiibo then checked the joints of his elbows, seeming to be inspecting for any possible debris. “Well, what do you want to know?”

 _Oh boy,_ where to _start_? “Um, maybe where everyone sits? I think Kaede mentioned something about leadership? And more about this whole _vampire_ thing, please.” Saihara fidgeted and again wished for his cap. Where _was_ his cap? He hoped it was just being washed or something, and not left to ride the train with the commuters.

Kiibo tilted his head up and gave a small smile. “Kaede is the co-leader of our coven, along with Ouma. Ouma is the technical leader, but traditionally, covens are ruled by the most powerful vampire and their mate.”

“Kaede and Ouma _are mates?_ L-like in the romantic sense?” Saihara sputtered. He had not picked up on that at _all_. From Kaede’s resigned aggravation to the impish boy’s antics, to her throwing him _bodily_ out of the room, to Kaede’s reluctance to going to meet him. And Saihara hadn’t at all seen Ouma as a _leader_ – Kaede _had_ mentioned something about it before, but Saihara had heard it under the idea this was a mafia group, so he had discarded a lot of that information; but the idea that the pipsqueak was _the strongest vampire_ was startling.

Kiibo shook his head vigorously, seeming appalled. “Goodness no! I said _traditionally_! Ouma and Kaede are allies and comrades! As far as I’ve seen, their relationship holds nothing beyond platonic bonds.” The robot gave a sigh, “Kaede is second in command due to no one else being suited for the role. Ouma is very chaotic and Kaede keeps him balanced and makes sure to handle the repercussions of his whims.” Like kidnapping a human off the street? Hold on…

“How many vampires are in the coven? Are there other covens? How many vampires are there overall? Are demons _really_ demons? And they’ve been the ones killing people?” Saihara was spurred on now; despite the craziness of the situation, he could very well reach the truth of the case with a bit of probing.

Kiibo blinked in surprise at the outburst, but shrugged it off. “There’s about ten thousand in this coven, comprising of everything from fledglings to nobles, with a bit over half boarding here at headquarters.” He tapped the wall to clarify. “There’s a few tens of thousands of vampires in total, though there had been nearly hundreds of thousands of vampires at one point – you can blame demons and hunters for that. There are only two other major covens, but they’re both overseas due to territory rights; they have the other thousands. Though, not all vampires are in covens; some prefer to remain alone, and others are blood-mad feral beasts who can’t function in any form of civilisation. They’re no better than demons, so they’re hunted as well…” Kiibo frowned and crossed his arms, “and yes, by demons, we mean _actual_ demons who have been killing humans… but probably not quite the same kind of demons you’re thinking of.”

Saihara could see that pressing for further information of demons was only going to stress the conversation. Another touchy subject? Even if he wasn’t the most socially adept, Saihara at least knew how to read someone he was trying to get information from – a useful skill for a detective interviewing suspects and witnesses; it wouldn’t do to stress someone before you could get anything out of them… or let them you know you were onto them, if the situation called for it. Time to change tactics. “You mentioned about fledglings and… nobles?” From Saihara’s loose understanding of vampire lore, he could only infer that fledglings referred to young or recently turned vampires.

“The stages and statuses of vampirehood.” Kiibo gave a small smile. “From fledglings to elders for life stages, and nobles and monarchs for statuses. Ouma and Kaede, of course, are the coven monarchs. Directly below them are the nobles, such as myself and those two vampires you saw earlier, and the rest are simply referred to as majors. Monarchs are the rulers, and nobles are strong, usually fairly old vampires that support them and often have their own parts to manage in the covens.”

“So what are the life stages?”

“Starts off at fledglings – this can either be actual baby vampires or recently turned vampires.” So these vampires _could_ turn a human? How did that happen? And by baby vampires, does that indicate that the vampires could have children? And age? “They have no powers but need blood to survive, and so are completely dependent on their sires and/or covens. Most responsible sires keep themselves and their fledglings at the coven until they’ve at least become a minor vampire, as feeding a fledgling is very demanding and usually requires the support of a coven.”

“Yeah? Then a… minor vampire?”

Kiibo smiled, pleased that Saihara was listening and was able to follow. “Right. Vampires go from fledglings to minor as soon as they’ve developed at least one vampiric power; speed, stamina, stealth, hypnotism, etc. This is the equivalent of a human child or teenager, and this is usually when sires will be willing to risk taking themselves and their offspring off coven-grounds, though usually not for long. Vampires remains as minors until they’ve developed all their powers and reach adulthood, which is called major. The vast majority of vampires are that, including nobles and monarchs.” Kiibo nodded pleased with his explanation.

“And elders?”

Kiibo’s expression twitched. “Mmm… that one is a bit of a misleading one to a human. Vampires, after reaching majorhood, do not age, but most vampires won’t ever reach the level of elder. It… it means _really_ old vampires, no just chronologically but…” Kiibo hummed in contemplation, though it sounded just like fans whirring, and Saihara was struck with a flashback of his computer making a similar noise when it had difficult handling a particularly hefty program. “Elders are vampires that are original vampires, and have aged to a certain point. The original vampires are ones that weren’t turned from humans, or born from turned vampires. They were the original vampires, as in _truly_ original vampires. When one of those vampires got old enough, they became immensely powerful, and have great influence over other vampires. They were named elders for how their hair would often turn pale, or white, like human elders’ would.”

“And what about you?”

Kiibo tilted his head, and Saihara wondered if his eyes would be blinded by the robot’s metal ‘hair’ if they were in direct sunlight. Were vampires impervious to sunlight? If they weren’t, it’d make sense for the base to have no windows. How much of actual vampire fiction was true? Kiibo seemed to bite his lip and his brows furrowed. Right, Kaede warned him this was a sore subject. But this was a robot man in a coven of vampires – a piece of futuristic tech amongst the old-world supernaturals. “What exactly do you mean?”

Saihara sensed he had to tread carefully in his next phrase to avoid offending Kiibo. Alright, stay away from the whole… _metal_ thing. “What do you do in the coven? Are you a major or…?”

Kiibo’s posture shifted to a relieved relaxation – sweet, he succeeded. Was the root of this distaste for being reminded of not being a vampire coming a desire to fully assimilate? “I’m officially a noble. I serve directly under Kaede as, I suppose, her secretary.” Kiibo enlarged his chest-cavity with pride. “I manage communications between sectors of the coven, help resolve disputes with the aid of my many functions, and provide assistance to the other nobles when needed – such as mechanics, external relations and defence.” A pair of metallic hands clanged against Kiibo’s hip-area as he posed in triumph. “I’m a valuable asset to this coven!”

“Oh wow!” Saihara wasn’t sure if he _should_ be impressed, as Kiibo did make it sound important, or be saddened by the insinuation that Kiibo seemed to be put in the errand-boy position – but a bit of flattery would probably go a long way, so best to act awed. “How long have you been a part of the coven?”

Kiibo may not have been made up of flesh, but he still reacted with the same ego engorgement that Saihara’s superiors, interviewees, and colleagues would suffer when allowed to talk about themselves. The automaton smiled charmingly and gave a humble shrug. “A few hundred years ago – around the end of the war, back in Europe. My creator was killed by the demons, and Ouma offered me a place in his coven.” His lips twisted into a pout. “I suppose I’m thankful to Ouma for that – I likely wouldn’t have lasted long after the death of my creator without the coven helping me get back on my feet.”

“Wow.” Saihara was constantly being surprised by the separate chunks of information he had to continually process. A war against demons? As in there had been a definitive time when they were fighting, rather than a consistent rivalry he had initially thought? Kiibo was over several hundred years old yet was clearly a creation well beyond his time period – how did that work? Who was his creator? Would Saihara ever manage to go through a conversation without someone casually dropping allusions to war, murder, or the supernatural?

“I may not drink blood, but I feel accepted by everyone here.” What _did_ Kiibo eat, though? The medieval robot shot the captive a firm look, steel eyes glinting. “I will not tolerate robophobia, if you are contemplating such a notion.” Saihara shook his head vigorously – he hadn’t been thinking of it, and he certainly wouldn’t with such a threat. What exactly could Kiibo do? Was he just an automated doll or did he perhaps have some of ‘robophobia counter-measures’? “Good! You don’t seem like someone who would discriminate against robots, anyway.” Kiibo grinned, which look surprisingly more natural on him than a lot of humans, and Saihara was left to ponder what kind of craftsman had built Kiibo.

“Ah, thanks.”

Kiibo relaxed, ducked down into the fridge, and pulled away from the fridge with an armful of food stuffs to be scraped. Seemed that Saihara was hardly necessary for the clean-up. “I can see you’re burning with questions – it reminds me of when I first met Ouma, actually.” Kiibo scowled again and dropped the food in the trash chute unceremoniously. “Though, he had no qualms about voicing his questions… which was every single possible thought that went through his skull… no matter how personal it was.”

“He sounds like an interesting guy.” Saihara drawled. So the devilish purple imp-man turned out to act _exactly_ as he looked, but was also the head of this coven, Saihara’s kidnapper and was held in both esteem and exasperation by his peers.

“Haven’t you met him yet?”

“He was there when I woke up, but he only managed to say a sentence before Kaede physically threw him out of the room.”

“Ah, that sounds like her.” Kiibo nodded sagely. “What did you think of him?”

“He made me think of a mischievous fairy.”

Kiibo cracked up in laughter at that, holding his chest-plating, his motors and voicebox wheezing – making a combination that Saihara found both amazing and worrying. Did he break Kiibo? “My… my goodness!” _Wheeze_ “I-I!” _Cough_ “That is very accurate!” Kiibo managed to squeeze out after a good solid minute of metal-splitting laughter. Kiibo grasped the wall and pulled himself up, only to lean against it as he steadied his, Saihara supposed, breathing. Kiibo managed to calm down and gave another warm metal smile to the detective. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along very well, Saihara.”

Sweet, Saihara had made a friend. With a robot. With a _medieval_ robot. A medieval robot who was _babysitting_ him. For a _vampire_. Who was also an accessory to _kidnapping_. Sweet.

“Uh, yeah!” Saihara supplied weakly.

Kiibo righted himself and cocked an ear. “Ah, I fear we’ve stayed too long. The coven is stirring.”

Oh, _alright_ , the coven of _blood-sucking vampires_ were fucking _waking up_ to a _human_ in their home. Great. “Um…?!”

Kiibo’s expression dissolved into panic when he saw Saihara and quickly shook his hands in a placating gesture. “No, no, it’s alright! Everyone who would possibly pass through here has good control of their bloodlust. And even if they caved, as low the chance would be, I’m more than a doll! Yumeno has extensively tutored me in honing my magical abilities!” Saihara didn’t appear appeased so Kiibo rapidly clacked over and took his hand. “Probably for the best we get going now.”

* * *

“Ouma, it’s been a whole day.” A long inhale. “ _And I still can’t believe you pulled this shit._ ”

Ouma idly traced out the patterns of the rich conference table in one of the many rooms of his base. Kaede paced around the perimeter, running her hand through her hair to turn it awry and her face flushed. Ah, she could only get any red in her veins if she had drunk blood. For a moment, a predatory flicker of anger flashed through Ouma’s mind. She better not have taken any from his human.

No, that was silly. Ouma reined in the thought and schooled his face, before his second-in-command could notice. Kaede was sensible and had definitely fed from one of the stored blood bags. There was a reason she was the highest ranking vampire next to him – if she was nearly anyone else, Ouma might’ve had to put up safeguards to stop her leading a mutiny against him.

“You _steal_ a human, right when tensions are really growing between us and the demons! What is it?” She slammed her delicate hands onto the table, and Ouma heard the faintest sound of the table cracking. Thank god for the super-reinforced wood (which, honestly, was a necessity for a vampiric war room). “Do you _want_ to encourage hunters into this? Do you _want_ to bring another full-out war?!” She snarled, fangs on display.

Ouma slid his violent-violet eyes at her and stared at her lacklustre. “The hunters are nowhere near what they used to be – most are just pop-culture junkie teens or decrepit pensioners.” Really, what was to get so worked up over? It was just _one_ human, so why fuss? “And the demons have no interest in him, so no sweat off their brow if he’s being kept here.”

“But that’s just _it_.” Kaede slid into the chair on his right. “Ouma, you’ve _kidnapped_ someone. And that someone is a human. With a family who will already be missing him. And he can’t be returned to them because of _your_ crush.” She finally calmed her breathing.

“Kaede,” Ouma grimaced, his voice hinging on venomous, “he would’ve died if he was left out there. That would just bring the fight even faster.”

“So what? They’ll just kill some of the other detectives now that he’s here!” Kaede put her head in her hands and sighed wistfully. “Ouma… you could’ve brought _her_ down onto us… she might still come if she hears about this.”

“Kaede~!” Ouma teased, lips curling around his fangs. “You’re going to have be more specific about which _her_. Females do take up half of the population.”

“Your sire.”

Ouma’s smile crumbled and he scowled at the reference of the elder. He didn’t _hate_ her, but he certainly didn’t want her within the same country as him and his coven. She had her own coven to worry about, and he had his, and covens inhabiting the same country was a strain. There was a reason why she was still in Europe and he had taken his rag-tag band to this island sovereign centuries ago. “She wouldn’t have come for something so petty.”

Kaede leaned back in the chair. “Stealing a human isn’t petty, Ouma, especially with the current situation.”

“So what do you want me to do? Kill Saihara? Declare war on the demons and jump the gun?” Ouma yawned and mimicked her pose. “That’ll bring her down _real_ quick.”

Kaede hummed and rubbed her temples. “Doesn’t… don’t they have a thrall in their coven?”

Ouma grabbed the table so fast that cracks riveted in the varnished pattern, to stop his chair from tipping over in his shock. “ _Thrall?_ What do you mean _thrall_?”

“Ouma, I haven’t actually _met_ any of them so how am I to know?” Kaede scolded with her classic-matriarch voice. Then her mauve eyes practically glowed; not in her hypnotism way, but in her ‘I have an idea’ way.

Ouma slumped against the table and groaned as loudly and as dramatically as he could. “You want to meet her and her coven, don’t you?”

Kaede fixed her sweater, straightening the sleeves and collar, a righteous smirk on her face. “Well, it’ll be good to reaffirm allies during times such as this, and it’d be better to alert your sire to the current predicament promptly.” She simpered, and Ouma knew there was no getting out of this.

“Alright, just don’t blame me if something goes wrong.”

“Of course nothing will – _I’ll_ be the one organising it.”

“Wow, and people wonder _why_ we aren’t mates.” Ouma snorted and rolled his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *sounds of the social rank up from persona 4 for Kiibo and Saihara* Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to kudos and comment!
> 
> I have some bad news: I won’t be able to write/update until end of December to January. I miscalculated how much time would be chewed by school and my job so now I don’t actually have any time for writing. So, um, sorry. Chapter 5 is partially written but I won’t be able to continue it for the time being. I have NOT abandoned this fic I just gotta postpone, sorry fam. I’ll probably come back for the six weeks we have for Christmas holidays, but then go back on hiatus when school comes back. However, the next chapters should be even better quality as I have upped the editing process, so that’s good!
> 
> I love having two major projects, the advanced English class, two extension courses, a miserably huge language class, economics, legal studies and a job that just MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM I’ve gotta be a masochist bc gfdi me y do I do this to myself


	5. everyone is struggling.png

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from hiatus and a day late so yaa  
> Celebrate the holidays by having more world-building lore shoved down your throat and lines like  
> “Does that make Ouma my dad?”

Saihara was lead back into the maze of halls that was the vampire coven base. Why was it designed like this? Was it to confuse outside attackers? Did the vampires have this place built or did they somehow find someone selling a western styled underground mansion? Back when Japan was probably still isolationist? Wait, when _did_ these vampires come over to Japan? He initially hadn’t thought much about it, but none of the vampires he had seen looked like a typical foreigner, and it was only when he looked carefully did he notice their features didn’t sit in the Asia-originating spectrum. They would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb pre-1850s, and even long after that they’d still appear exotic – so was that the reason behind the underground base? But if the ones he had seen were of European descent, then how come he hadn’t noticed at first? Was it something like Kaede’s hypnosis, except a consistent physical one? It actually sounded like something he’d heard supernatural beings could do…

Kiibo glanced back at Saihara and raised a metallic-paint eyebrow. “You seem lost in thought.”

“Just… this is all very western… but none of the vampires actually look western until I look specifically for it?”

“Ah, _that_.” Kiibo nodded as he took a sharp left down a fork in the hallway. “What do you know about glamour?”

“Glamour?”

“Faeries use it.” _Oh, ok, just drop that like it’s nothing._ “We can’t use the full spell, where you can truly change your hair colour, body type, etcetera, but our magic users can do simple things that make it easier to not notice. When the glamour is off, you’ll definitely see the difference, but otherwise you can’t tell that well.”

 _Ok,_ so _faeries_ and _vampires_ could do magic. And both existed. Sweet. Alright. So, that was _another_ thing he had considered factual that he was to throw out the window. “So all vampires can use magic?” Good place to start getting a bit more clarification.

“Yes, but in varying degrees – witches and faeries are the best magic users, with demons and vampires in the middle ground, and humans on the lower end of the scale.” Kiibo gestured widely to all the hidden rooms. “Vampiric magic level is dependent on their bloodlines as humans. If they had faery or witch blood, then they’ll have higher magical capabilities than a pure human, though how long they’ve been a vampire, of course, also plays a part. But the strongest vampire mages are the ones who were actually witches or faeries before their turning – our own resident Grand Master was a witch before her turning.”

“Ah.” Ok, _witches_ were a thing to add to the list too. And vampires can spread their… _vampireyness_ to other races, not just humans. “What other supernatural races are there?” Yep, that was something he really needed cleared up by now.

“There used to be a tonne of races, but after the war there is only a fraction left. Vampires are the most prevalent due to only needing to increase the numbers through turning with a relatively high success rate. The rarer races are golems, like myself.” Kiibo tapped his fist over his chest, emitting a high-pitched clang. Ah, Saihara wasn’t familiar with that one – he’d have to go look more up about them. “But for the other races? There are small pockets and individuals who are the left-overs of their original races, but the only ones still holding form are demons, werebeasts, the fae, elves, witches, warlocks and merpeople.”

“Do all the races fight each other like the demons and vampires?” Saihara recalled the _numerous_ novels and films he had seen of wars between vampires and werewolves.

“Goodness no!” Kiibo paused to give Saihara a startled look, reassessed where they were, then continued on their way. “All the supernatural species fight demons, and vice versa! We actually have very good connections with the elves and werewolf packs – two of the nobles are actually from those factions. We also have a trade system with this country’s witch coven which has helped support us in our discreet lifestyle.”

Saihara blinked, opening his mouth to begin asking more questions about these nobles, when Kiibo threw his arm out. Saihara felt his breath rush out as he banged against the solid arm, Kiibo wincing sympathetically before snatching the human by the back of the jacket and rapidly carting him down one of the side halls. “What’s the matter?” Saihara wheezed as he rubbed his stomach. The automaton (golem?) was shorter than him, so he had walked straight into the arm and winded himself.

“I heard one of the doors open. To a noble’s room.” Kiibo muttered as they emptied into one of the bigger halls. “I’m taking you to Kaede’s room for now – you’ll be safer there, and no vampire will dare enter her room without her permission.” Right, didn’t vampires have this whole thing about having to be welcomed to enter a house?

“What… what would happen if one of the other vampires were to meet me?” Saihara raised a hand, ready to pull his cap closer around his head, and was struck by how uncomfortable it was to be without. He’d have to inquire to where it was or ask for a new one.

“Nothing too bad, I’m sure. You’d most likely be surrounded by an inquisitive vamp who is more like an excited pup than anything. But…” Kiibo gave a nervous chuckle. “Pups tend to play-bite, right? That’s how Kaede explained it…” Had Kiibo met an actual pup? Saihara hadn’t either, so he couldn’t confirm or deny Kiibo’s question, but wow, you think you’d have held at least _one_ puppy if you’ve lived for so many years.

Kiibo stopped them in front of one of the doors, this one gilded with intricate music notes, and ushered Saihara inside. Kiibo’s whole frame decompressed as he gave them equivalent of a relaxed sigh, now safe from the corridor labyrinth, waved Saihara away from the door and seated himself on a chaise. Saihara sat himself on one a tasselled footstool as he appraised the room. Unsurprising that Kaede’s room was filled with pinks, though in the bolder shades paired with starker whites and blacks than he would’ve expected. There was a black grand piano positioned in the middle, with mismatched-in-all-forms-except-for-their-obviously-high-price-tag seating surrounding it, domestic concert style, with a French door leading into a bedroom, but obscured by a heavy ochre curtain. It kinda looked like a bordello, to be honest.

Hang on… this was his first time in a _girl’s_ room.

Saihara had expected to be in complete shock at the erotic implications, as the media had suggested he should be, but the feeling was lost on him. Might’ve depended on the fact that this room also belonged to a high-standing vampire, he was also occupying the room with a metal man, he was hiding from a group of curious vampires who might make a snack out of him, or the fact that he was still reeling from… _everything_ , or perhaps all of the above. Or maybe it was-

That reminded Saihara.

“Hey, Kiibo?” Saihara waited for the questioning mechanical whir from Kiibo. “I still don’t a lot about Ouma – do you mind?”

“Oh, boy, where to start.” Kiibo gave a shakey laugh. “Suppose the general stuff is a suitable place to start. Ouma Kokichi is our coven leader and is the sire of many of the vampires here. He fought in the first war and was sired by one of the original elders-“

“Sorry, but, um,” Saihara winced as he interrupted, waiting for Kiibo to prompt him to voice his thought. “Who are the elders? I know you mentioned they were the original vampires but, like, _how_ did they become vampires? Where are they now? And how did Ouma meet an elder vampire in order to be turned?” All Saihara could conjure to mind was a scraggly, wiry old couple with oversized, drive-in-movie monster fangs, while howling in Latin. He doubted that was accurate.

Kiibo tapped his foot against the pale-pink rug as he processed his next choice of words. “Well, I haven’t met any elders, nor has anyone from this coven, besides Ouma. No one really knows how the elders became vampires, maybe not even them, but it centres on this one family. Most of them died back during the war, but only Ouma’s sire, the daughter survives. She remains in Europe with her coven and mate.” Kiibo huffed the faintest hint of smoke. “She was the one who suggested the three remaining covens move to entirely different continents.”

“Ouma’s coven in Asia, her coven in Europe, and…?”

“The polygamist in America.”

“ _The what in where?”_

Kiibo gave a heartfelt bubble of mirth and grinned again. “Sorry, sorry, that’s a bit of an in-coven joke. The other coven leader holds domain over America; North and South, Canada, and Mexico… probably needs all that room for all his spouses.”

“ _You’re joking, right?”_

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry!” Kiibo waved his hand to dismiss Saihara’s horror. “He only has two mates.”

Saihara bit his tongue from another exclamation when he saw Kiibo was indeed serious. Oh _ok_. Yeah, that goes about with the tone of this whole fucking evening, or whatever time it was in this fucking place. Right, bring on the polygamist yankee vampire! “So, uh,” what do you even say after that? “What powers do elders have?”

“They’re stronger I think? Magically, physically, and according to Ouma, emotionally? Well, he more said his sire’s emotional fortitude would make God cry… but I’m not really sure how to decipher that. They make stronger fledglings, that I know for sure; but Ouma is one of only a few surviving elder-made fledglings after the war, and the rest are also in high positions with the other covens.” Kiibo rolled his shoulders, looking pensively at the door. When would Kaede come back from her ‘meeting’? What was even meant to be discussed? War plans? A party? Which human to steal off the seven-fifty-two train next? “I’m… I’m not actually sure how Ouma met his sire, because whenever we try and ask he spins these wild tales that no one believes for a moment.” He huffed, “but I _do_ know he was also a coven leader for a small time before the war – don’t know what happened to those vampires, who they or their sires were, but chances are they were killed by demons and hunters during the beginning of the war.” Time for the big question of the evening the audience was dying for.

“And how come Ouma wanted to kidnap me?”

Kiibo winced but did his best to cover it up and appear excited. “Ah! Perhaps our leader saw potential in you! He saw you as new fledgling for our coven! Or maybe he saw power in you that could be beneficial to the witch’s coven as a new student, and so strengthen our ties to them!” Translation _: I do know but I don’t want to say_ , or, _mate, I’ve got no fucking clue_.

Saihara sighed and gripped the edges of the stool, glancing around the gruesomely pink room – ok, this was starting to wear on his eyes; how could girls _stand_ it for this long? “And why all the big fuss in keeping me away from him… especially if he sees me as having ‘potential’”

Kiibo emitted a hacking noise like a cat throwing up (sadly, not like he was breaking into a government data base) and banged his chest plate. Did he just do the equivalent of choking on spit? _Did he choke on his equivalent of spit?_ “That’s, _um_ , a valid question! That is because, uh, Ouma… _um_ ,” Kiibo looked at the door, seeming to be praying that Kaede would burst in to save him. “Ouma has not _gonethroughtheproperpaperwork!_ ”

“Excuse me?”

“Ouma hasn’t gone through the proper paperwork!”

“There’s paperwork for kidnapping?”

“I think that’s what humans call adoption?”

“Does that make Ouma my dad?”

Kiibo pulled a face and shook his head. “I don’t think I want Ouma being the father of any being – I wouldn’t wish such a fate upon them.” The poor tin-can-man gave a frustrated sigh and puffed up. “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a proper explanation – both monarchs would have my head for it. I just have to keep you away from Ouma and any other vampires until Kaede gives me the all-!”

“KIIBO! KIIBO! WE HEARD THE HUMAN IS AWAKE!”

Kiibo looked ready to lock into a fetal position and scream his voice contraption out of existence as two female vampires muscled their way into the room. Saihara barely even had a chance to look at them, before he was swept onto his feet and, unfortunately not first time this evening, poked and prodded by supernatural beings. One was dressed in refined blacks and whites, hair swept up in a neat bun as she pulled his arms forwards and backwards, stabbing into pressure points, joints and ribs, assessing. The other had come to prowl around the edges, circling, also judging, but more predatorily. Saihara only managed to catch a glimpse of a blue sports outfit before she flitted behind him and the other vampire took up way too much of his vision.

“He’s scrawny, which is fine-“

“Why _are_ you so thin? I know humans have become obsessed with thinness but-“

“I could _certainly_ bench-press him in a second-“

“Goodness, when was the last time you ate? You look skin and bone-“

“I’m so glad they don’t hyper-fixate on becoming warrior fit these days. Such muscle heads-“

“I’ll have to speak to the infirmary in organising tests; a dietary change is in order and-“

“I know not to expect it from Ouma, but c’mon, he couldn’t have brought in a cute girl?”

 Kiibo’s, and now Saihara’s, prayers were answered when Kaede entered the room and parted the two fanged women from orbiting Saihara before even uttering a hello. Her flaxen hair had been pulled into a work-serious bun which bounced as she glided back whilst hauling the two vampires with her. “Saihara! Glad to see you’re alright, despite,” she grimaced at the two suddenly bashful girls, “the efforts of those who don’t follow proper etiquette.” She released the two and sent a sympathetic smile at Kiibo as the automaton unfurled from where he had become a ball of stress.

“Ah, Kaede, you’ve returned.” The brunette who had been circling tapped her finger tips together, shifting from foot to foot as she realised her predicament.

“We thought it would be wise to assess the human as soon as possible.” The ash blonde mumbled into her hand and proceeded to fiddle with her dress.

It was kind of amazing seeing the power that Kaede wielded over others – the _respect_. Suppose they’d have to do so for their monarch-queen-head-vampire-lady or _whatever_ was the proper term of address for Kaede. Saihara wondered if she had particular powers to back herself up with. Or would her hypnosis be enough to put her in the top seat?

Kaede took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s alright, it’s alright, _just_ don’t… go against direct orders like that again – we do things for a reason.” She exhaled, seeming to be reciting in her head the ol’ back-from-ten trick. “Ouma is being a little _bit difficult_ so,” translation: he was being a lil shit. “Tojo, could you go and prepare a proper room for Saihara?”

Saihara tensed his hands, curling them into fists. So he really wasn’t leaving. _Great_. He had kind of hoped that things would be cleared up and he would be able to slip out of _wherever_ this vampiric domain was. It wasn’t a realistic expectation, but a man could dream. So he was now to be set up inside a den of supernatural indefinitely, be minded by a robot man, and be sporadically harassed by puppy-like vampires. Just _great_.

“Certainly; I will begin immediately.” The one named Tojo, the refined dressing one, quickly tapped out of the room, her footfalls fading far too soon to be natural.

The other girl glanced back at Saihara and huffed. “I’ve got nothing really keeping me here, so…” and was also out of the room in a flash.

Kaede wandered over to the piano, seating herself delicately on the stool and rolled her shoulders to release tension. Right, right, she was the co-leader of a coven the size of a town – and the _actual leader_ didn’t seem to be all too suitable or active for the job. And the other so called ‘nobles’ seemed to be more of a hindrance than a help.

“Kaede? I’m… I’m sorry for not keeping other vampires away from Saihara – you relinquished him to me only a short while ago but _hmm_.” Kiibo mumbled, his internal mechanism emitting an unsteady purr.

Kaede snapped her head up and shook, a few strands catching freedom from the bun. “No, no, it’s ok! It was only other nobles – better some of them than other members.”

Awesome, they were back to talking as though Saihara wasn’t in the room again. He didn’t really expect to be treated with the same respect when he learnt he was boarding with mythical blood-suckers, but _still_ , c’mon! Would they ever reach a point where Saihara wasn’t going to be shepherded and babysat like a naughty toddler, or have his personal space invaded without warning, or be properly included in conversation concerning his wellbeing?

“Kiibo,” Saihara was pulled from his state at Kaede’s gentle call, “we’ll be keeping Saihara mostly in his room for the time being so you can return to your usual duties. Things are a bit messy right now, so we don’t know how long he must stay. I’ve sent some of the major vampires to go collect his stuff and give an excuse to his family and-“

“ _You better not have.”_

Kaede gave a visible jump and twisted to stare at Saihara, as though only just properly noticing the detective was _indeed_ in the room. And was giving her an _aggravated_ glare – to put it lightly. “Saihara? Sorry, but wouldn’t you rather have your own familiar possessions, and be more comfortable with the knowledge your family isn’t worried about you?” She knitted together her fingers and locked eyes with him. She better not be aiming for her hypnosis or some power play bullshit.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be _real_ comfortable knowing I’m a prisoner with no chance of outside rescue or having my own decisions, but _hey_ , at _least_ I’ll have my favourite pairs of boots.” Saihara reached up, ready to yank his cap down over his eyes, only succeeding in clawing at his fringe. He turned away, adamant about decreasing his chances of being enchanted.

Kiibo was on his feet, metal heels muffled by the carpet as he strode over, patting the air around Saihara’s shoulder as he debated the safety of making contact. “Saihara, you really shouldn’t be saying-“

“Saying what? That I’m not over the fucking moon to be _kidnapped_ and held against my will? To have my world-view shattered overnight and to be informed I’d have to stay here for reasons that are a bit too vague with strangers who could bleed me dry?” Saihara snapped, waving Kiibo’s hand away.

As Saihara’s hand made its crest back to his side, the air turned frigid and stilled. It was cheesy, cliched, _and really fucking terrifying_. Saihara didn’t need to turn to see the eyes boring into the back of his skull, eyes glowing dark pink in a shade uncomfortably close to red. The crystal chandelier overhead flickered like a low-budget thriller but _holy fuck that was an actual thing vampires could do_. The surrounding velvet and plush in pastel and hot pink didn’t seem so girly now, but seemed more like blood-drained entrails and organs in Saihara’s periphery.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The lisp around the fangs.

“You would die before you even reached your home station.”

The lilt of an accent turning to rust.

“We’re doing you a favour.”

The decaying drip of venom.

“We’re putting ourselves in danger by doing this, do you understand?”

_SLAM_

As the door was burst upon, allowing in a tumult of fresh air and a purple-haired spriggan, Saihara took in a gasp as the aura was broken. Kiibo was back by Kaede’s side, side-eyeing the newcomer and Kaede was on her feet, eyes now drilling into, thankfully, not Saihara. After that ordeal, it left little surprise in Saihara’s mind that Kaede could occupy the right as a monarch unchallenged.

Saihara drunkenly turned, and lo and behold, _the man of the hour,_ Ouma Kokicihi stood in front of him, very much not keeping to his human-captive-banishment, with a smile that would make the devil falter. In two skips, he swept up Saihara’s still semi-raised hand, and struck an overexaggerated pose of dramatic airs, with his fangs on show.

“Salutations, Saihara! I’m Ouma Kokichi, the leader of this coven, and your host. Happy to finally introduce myself~!”

And proceeded to kiss the back of Saihara’s hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *comes stumbling back out of hiatus* I’M BACK AND I’M ALIVE! So I’m out for the summer holidays and we resume in February so I’ll have six weeks for six updates for all my stories… on top of doing my over-holiday school shit. Hmm… rip me. Though I’m super hyped because I’ve finally gotten a PS4! Assassin’s Creed Origins is way too much fun and I’m only just past Siwa… and I haven’t gotten past NDRV3 chapter 1 now that I think about it so hmm… anyway, good to back! Let’s pray I can hold my ground!  
> Lmao, when I write Saihara he never stops questioning (and Kaede like she got her six-month badge from anger management). We’re like a sixth of the way through the story now, aren’t we? Keep up the lovely comments and kudos because they feed me! And thank you so much to all the commenters who wished me well for my studies – you’re all too good!
> 
> Also the bordello joke is about when I had painted my room ‘watermelon pink’ and my mum said it made my room look like a bordello – her exact words.
> 
> Happy Holidays!


	6. Nothing much happens really, but holding hands with a robot is cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title p much. Double update so whoa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the missed update – a cousin staying for three weeks is surprisingly hectic.

“So, you’re the one who kidnapped me and now refuses to let me go?”

Saihara wanted to bite his tongue as soon as those words left his mouth. Yeah, sure, _that_ was a smart idea: go talk back to vampire lord. It wasn’t like Saihara was under house arrest, in a place that was _not his house_. Or that this was being imposed by supernatural beings that could suck the life out of him. Beings that he _also_ didn’t even know were real a day ago. Cool. Smart move.

Even though he had only got up two hours ago, Saihara would've liked to go back to bed.

He was prepared to accept his death in the form of fangs penetrating his jugular, and so was surprised when the room was permeated by a sly giggle. “Nishishi,” Ouma relaxed, putting his hands behind his head, rocking a step back and fixing Saihara to the spot with an angelic smile. “You’re bolder than I thought – I like it! I mean, like, you’re in a life-threatening situation but you still snapped at me. Gutsy~!” he drew out the final word, now exposing all his fangs in the laugh. “If you’re not careful, you may end up as our dinner.”

_Yeah, that’s kinda what Saihara was fearing._

Ouma closed his lips, still not doing away with his devil may care smile, and shrugged. “But that was a joke, so don’t worry.”

 _Oh,_ ok. Saihara did not believe him one bit but he had a cute smile. Wait, no, that was dumb. This guy was an extreme danger and to be swayed by the pulling of face muscles was very foolish when viewed like that. Killed the mood to think about things on a technical level. Though, could he use any of his pre-existing knowledge when dealing with such creatures? Where were his thoughts going? Of course, vampires smiled with facial muscles. Anyway: Saihara was suss of the tiny purple man.

“Jesus Christ, I’ll be needing Clair de Lune to destress after this.” Kaede mumbled, sending withering looks at the two. That was either a musical piece or some kind of beauty product, if Saihara was to guess. Seriously, how long has Kaede had to deal with Ouma? For all her knew, it could be (most probably) centuries. No wonder – if he had to put up with this bullshit, Saihara would be tired too. Also, seemed religion didn’t affect them, thanks to that blasphemous snap. Didn’t that old English novel say vampires would have negative reactions to Christian iconography and the like? Well guess that meant that any other protection or slaying methods were up in the air now.

And he might need them if things were to continue like this.

“So, Saihara, what do you like to do for fun?” Ouma tapped his chin, an innocent expression on his face despite the obvious flirt.

“Nope, no, no, nu-uh, think again.” Kaede glided over in two strides and commandeered Ouma’s arm. “You know the ban – _and_ we have more things to discuss.”

“But I don’t wanna plan a dumb soiree!” Ouma howled as he was once again man-handled out of the room, struggling. He lost the charm he had established, as he turned to dead weight, now resembling a toddler being dragged from the toy aisle.

“Kiibo!” Kaede now caged both of Ouma’s arms as he returned to flailing. “Help Saihara settle and introduce hum to the other nobles!”

“I thought it was better to keep him away?” Kiibo started forward, looking unsure if he wanted to help Kaede or stay as far away as he could from the man-child.

“Integration!” Kaede yelped before she toed the door shut with a pointed foot and presumably took Ouma off to wherever they discussed… soirees?

* * *

“Kaede! You are no fun! I should make Iruma my second in command – at least she knows how to party!”

It was much easier to move about once Ouma had gotten back on his feet and now followed his second-in-command, of course, with some reluctance. They twisted and turned through the labyrinth, feet automatically taking them through the corridors that merged and mirrored from decades of practice. It was a bit trickier navigating in the newer areas, and they’d have a hard time pulling themselves from the new web being currently dug out. Low ceiling, low lighting, indistinct walls; all designed to bring comfort to the ancient beings who needed to be eased out of their crypts and into the shiny neon world. Hell, Kaede and Kokichi weren’t as old as some of their subordinates, but they still struggled with the changes each time they had to leave the home. Sometimes, it wasn’t such a mystery why some would sleep for decades.

And with how Ouma was acting, Kaede was very tempted to hide away and sleep until the forties came back around. “Kokichi,” her fangs grated together as she tensed her jaw, “you know _why_ I didn’t want you being with Saihara. Don’t give into temptation – we’re not demons.” Ouma muttered something that whistled between his fangs and Kaede nearly smacked him upside the head for it. “ _You know that I never intentionally wanted to-!_ Whatever… it doesn’t matter.”

Ouma turned giant mournful violet eyes on his fellow monarch and pouted. “Ka-e-de!” He whined, hands fisting together. Centuries old but still such a child. What life had he lead that ended with him outliving his natural death? Would he even tell her if she asked? Could Ouma even tell if he wanted to? Sometimes it got cloudy for Kaede when she tried to remember being a child… or even being human for that matter. “C’mon, don’t give me the silent treatment! This mausoleum is too quiet.” His eyes shined with crocodile tears. “ _Elise_.”

Kaede raised a hand to trace along the pull to the bun, noting she’ll have to redo it soon. It had been a while since she heard that name. “Mmm.” She grunted, returning Ouma’s gaze.

“Yay~!” Ouma chirped, pleased to finally have some attention again. “As I was saying: you’re cruel for keeping me from my cute li’l detective! And!” he held up a triumphant finger. “If you’re going to scold me anymore, I may as well stake myself now!”

Kaede sighed and shrugged, paused and then rolled her shoulders to relieve tension. “You’re so melodramatic – and that’s _not_ a reprimand… more of a comment.” She cracked her fingers, as if she was preparing to play the piano. “We have things to discuss though – plans for the demons and hunters, because they _will_ come, and what we will need to discuss with the other coven leaders at the soiree. We’re going to need their help for this.”

“You make it sound like I started this.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did _jump_ -start it, so you’re _going to help me, or_ I’ll throw you to the demons.” Kaede gripped the oaken door on the war room, but may as well have been made with iron with how long Ouma was going to be staying in it. Ah, the joys of being threatened with party planning by a blonde with pink glowing eyes. Must be a Thursday. Though… Ouma didn’t exactly _remember_ months, let alone days. It was a pity he didn’t have a solid sense of time anymore; it’d make this planning session carry on even longer.

* * *

Kiibo and Saihara shifted in discomfort after the departure of the monarch pair. Unsurprising, but having a duo of vampires overpower the room through force of personality left the air stale once they left.

The automaton cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. Wait, what purpose was there in him clearing his throat? Was it to mimic humans (and vampires)? Or did he actually have something clogged where his throat was? Whatever – Saihara was going to have to find someone who could finally answer his robot-related questions.

“So, um, soirees?”

Kiibo gave a short vibration – a jump of surprise? And then shrugged. “We have parties here every so often to boost morale and bonds. It’s probably one of those.” He tapped his foot against the carpet as he lost himself in thought. “Kaede told me to introduce you to the other nobles. But who to take you to first? You’ve encountered Toujo, Angie, Kaito and Chabashira, so someone else? But then again, it’d be polite to have you properly introduced to them. I’d have to take you to someone not too overwhelming… but then again all the nobles are a bit much…”

Saihara tuned out of the robot’s mumbling rant, again examining the room. Kaede mentioned that vampires slept, but the room was covered in a thin layer of dust. Did she sleep somewhere else? _Did_ she sleep? She looked so haggard all the time. She seemed like someone who was an angel when properly rested, and not a sleep-deprived humanoid monster. Saihara shouldn’t call any of the vampires humanoid monsters out loud – that was probably something that would get his head ripped off. He wondered what the other nobles would be like. There had been the tall purple-haired man with the raincoat wearer, along with the maid and rude girl who didn’t know personal space. Everyone honestly looked like they could break him in half in a second, without the vampiric strength they may or may not have.

“I know who we should meet first!” Saihara yelped as his hand was grasped and Kiibo tugged him towards the door. “Oh, sorry! Did I hurt you?” the robot dropped the detectives hand, but picked it back up to check it for harm. He ran a metal digit over a scar from when Saihara had mishandled a knife when he was younger, sending a shiver up Saihara’s spine.

“No, no, I was just surprised.” Saihara gave a nervous chuckle. Kiibo’s hand didn’t hurt one bit – he didn’t seem to have a very strong grip. But he was warm. Human-skin warm. Which might’ve been weird… and _was_ weird. The weird part was more the fact that it wasn’t a squishy meat hand, but a sculpted, unyielding extremity. But then again, that had its own charm. Probably depended on the person. Saihara, surprising even himself, found himself without a preference. Though, he didn’t appreciate near strangers touching him, metal or not.

“Oh, then I’m sorry for handling you without warning.” Kiibo then carefully lead Saihara towards the door, still holding his hand, glancing back to make sure Saihara wasn’t exhibiting any signs of pain.

Saihara wasn’t going to say no. It was kinda nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Eyo any Evil Within fans catch my very vague throwaway reference to it? Or the as vague Supernatural reference?


	7. Forest elf hoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara just kinda does a lot of :0 and :|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Double update! To make up for the week I missed – here is the chapter that would’ve been uploaded today. And a sorry as this will be the last chapter for a good while …

 

Saihara almost let out a groan at having to be lead back through the torturous winding mess of corridors. Would he ever learn to navigate them? If he was going to be staying here, he may have to. Kiibo kept a grip on his hand, towing Saihara through every twist and fork. This route was definitely longer than when he had gone to the front hall and kitchens. Where were they going?

At least this time Saihara had more to hold his attention.

What he presumed as major and minor vampires were wandering the halls. There were some that moved about as a unit, some that ran past so fast that only their tailwind was felt, and some that sleepily popped their head out from their rooms only to go back inside. Saihara was stared at as much as he stared back. They were strange and beautiful. Some hadn't applied their glamour yet, and moved about freely and noticeable in their natural looks. He saw around a third were of European descent, with a mix of other races making up the rest; everything from Hispanic, Filipino, Polynesian, Aboriginal, to even a few he was sure were Inuit. He noticed that often the minors tailing after the major parents were Japanese – so they were still turning people? How often did this happen? How many missing people that had never been found, were here all along? Would that be his fate as well? Was this some odd initiation into the coven? Saihara might've felt a bit easier if they had told him upfront… not that he would've agreed.

Most of the vampires kept their distance, some ducking into rooms to give way, or lying flat against the wall. Right, right, Kiibo was a noble too. And no doubt they had heard their leader was fond of the new human. Best not to incur any form of wrath. Saihara watched the movement of some of them. A lot would change directions; a few would stop to let them pass and then turn and go in the opposite direction, whilst others waited a moment before tailing them a few paces – then be stopped by another vampire. As they went, Saihara also noticed a rise in female vampires.

"Kiibo, where are we going?"

"We're going to one of the smaller lounges. It's near the side exit and the nursery, so a lot of the vampire-born teens relax in the ones around there – not too far from their chaperones and close enough to go outsi- um, yeah."

So there  _was_  an exit. Several ones too. And the vampire teens were allowed to leave? It kind of stung that he wasn't allowed to leave, but they were. Where do vampire teens even go? Do they go to hang out at cemeteries or the local mall? How far away were they from civilisation anyway? Were they buried in a mountain, under the ground in a forest, or in an extensive lower basement of some Tokyo office? It was amusing to think of high schooler vampires swamping a Hot Topic to the terrified dismay of the cashier. Though… now that he thought about it, all the nobles he had seen so far appeared to be  _indeed_ in high school. Huh…

"We're here!" Kiibo paused in front of a door carved with shallow shapes of saplings, and dropped Saihara's hand. Saihara discreetly wiped his hand on his pant leg to remove the clamminess. Was that weird to get from hold hands with a robot? Well, he doubted many had held hands with a robot before. "Ready?" Saihara nodded, clearing his throat.

The room that Kiibo opened up was the size of a classroom, and had a classroom worth of middle school aged girls surrounding a guy who most  _definitely_ shopped at Hot Topic. The girls had commandeered different stools, armchairs, sofas, tables and cushions to surround the boy, who was bent over the hand of one the girls placed amongst a plethora of nail polish bottles on a coffee table. Not surprising, it stunk of cheap deodorant and nail polish. Heads swivelled at the sound of the door opening and several girls popped off their seats to rush towards Kiibo, mindful of their hands, chirping in delight and flashing their new colourful designs.

"Easy, easy!" The boy rose, bottling the shade of carmine and sending an apologetic smile to the pouting teen he had been attending to. "Girls, you don't want to smudge your designs!" and with that magic phrase, the tide receded, the girls sweeping back to their cushions. The guy shook Kiibo's hand and smiled easily. "Hey Kiibo, it's been a while since you've visited my little corner! Oh," he glanced at Saihara and his smile twitched wider, "isn't this the poor detective Ouma dragged here? I'm Amami Rantaro, by the way – hope we get along."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Saihara Shuichi." Saihara wasn't exactly sure of what to make of Amami. First thing he noticed was that Amami didn't brush Saihara off and actually spoke directly to him. Amami dressed in easy, non-obtrusive colours, besides his mint green hair, and had a steady, unfaltering gaze. He had an unnerving calmness that sent off alarm bells in his head. Then again, judging from the lovestruck, eyelash fluttering from the girls behind Amami, he may just be a playboy. Saihara searched for the more supernatural elements of Amami's appearance. He was a bit different from the other vampires he had seen before; he had the same pair of flesh-piercing fangs, but they seemed to be smaller and more curved. Not to mention, he held a gentle glow to his skin, that could've been due to well done makeup, and, well, his ears were pointed. Not like the high-fantasy cosplayers Saihara had seen marauding the streets during convention season, but still enough that they poked from the mop of hair. All in all: Amami Rantaro looked like a goth elf hoe, to be honest.

"Ah, so formal." Amami rolled his shoulders and flicked his hand as a gentle dismissing gesture, causing his many bracelets to clink. He chuckled, "I guess I can see why Ouma liked you."

"Amami usually works in running our coven's business, but he's popular with the teen vampire-born girls for pampering them, so most of his free time ends up here." Kiibo stepped aside so Saihara and Amami could face each other properly.

"Aha, I don't mind – the girls are great conversationalists." Code for: they like to chat but I don't mind. "Most of the other vampires don't usually want to hang out with me." That made Saihara's eyebrow quirk. Perhaps he should redo his assessment of Amami. He didn't look threatening, but if every person Saihara thought didn't appear intimidating equalled innocence, far too many criminals would've slipped through the cracks.

"You're not as frightening as they seem to think." Kiibo sighed and shrugged, the metal plating creating a gentle clink. The girls, now seeing that Amami wasn't going to be returning immediately, dissolved into quiet, giggly conversation. "Ouma and Akamatsu like to spend time with you."

Amami snorted, and fiddled with his fringe. "More like Ouma comes around to bug me, and Akamatsu comes along to either drag him away or check up on me – all the nobles have their own responsibilities to deal with, so I don't blame them." So the monarchs' dynamic was pretty much the usual for around here. No wonder then Kaede always looked so exhausted. Amami dropped his hand and cocked his head at Saihara. "Hmm? You have a vague expression, Saihara."

Saihara snapped to attention and blurted out the first thing to came to mind – that wasn't his constant stream of monologuing questions. "I was curious if you were human when you were turned… or born?" That was a bit blunt, but he'd like to know.

"Ah, suppose my ears gave me away." Amami tapped the points, pushing one forward so Saihara could see the silver piercings lining it. "I was an elf before my turning. Quite a few vampires around here were elves – and there is a much larger percentage in the European coven."

"But there's now only a few elves left after the war."

"Oh, hello, Harukawa."

The girls leapt to attention as another vampire stepped into the room. Saihara's eyes were immediately drawn to her and he felt himself freeze to the spot. Even Kiibo and Amami straightened, carefree expressions dropping. The new arrival was without a doubt a vampire by appearance alone. Eyes the colour of welling blood, thick lashes, silky dark hair falling behind her, an expression as cold as the crypt, and a dress the colour of wine. She was what every single vampire fiction said one should appear as. If she had first appeared to Saihara, before Kaede or Ouma, he would've believed instantly he was in the den of bloodsuckers.

If it wasn't for the thumb-sucking toddler at her hip ruining the look, Saihara would've been shaking.

"Girls, I would like a word alone."

Saihara was lurched back by Kiibo as a wave of blurs pushed past the door, and the room became vacant of life and with only the lingering scent of nail polish. The tot gurgled and pawed at the vampire girl's bodice, smiling to reveal a gummy mouth with milk teeth and exaggerated canines. The other vampires Saihara could've seen as being schoolmates he tuned into the background, but this girl holding the baby was on a different level. A head-turner, for sure, she'd stick out anywhere. He doubted she was using glamour, her face left no question she was European. She may have been a teenager, but he could only visualise her in a floor length ballgown.

"Saihara Shuichi, my name is Harukawa Maki. Ouma made a mistake bringing you here."

 _Sister, I know._ Saihara held his tongue as Ma- no, Harukawa drilled holes into him by stare alone; she seemed like the type to get mad if he used Maki. Oh boy, her staring at him straight on was frightening and very intimidating. Saihara wondered if vampires could actually cause physical harm by looks alone. "I'm… sorry?"

She sniffed and turned her head away. "Doesn't matter – what's done is done. But you should know that your very presence here may bring down death onto our coven.

"Harukawa, why did you decide to come here?" Amami sighed and pocketed his hands. He looked ready to deflate but was holding himself upright in her presence.

Harukawa paused and flicked her fringe out of her eyes. "The nursery was getting cramped and I needed a walk – the teen vampire born are becoming agitated by being forced to stay inside and they're whining to me about it. Then I heard that the human was close."

Saihara tilted his head in question at Kiibo. If she was from the nursery, was she a minor vampire? She held such pure predatorial power in her stance alone, he had assumed she was a major. "Harukawa is a noble vampire. She manages the raising of fledglings and vampire born. The nursery is what we generally call the area fledglings without parents are boarded."

"A very important role!" Amami chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"Your flattery isn't working. Mmm… that reminds me, Amami." Maki pulled the toddler at arm's length as he tried to nibble on her pigtail, before slowly returning him to his place on her hip, giving him a small bounce. "I would like your help. You can calm down the teenagers. If things keep up much longer, I may just throw them out."

"Sure, I'd be happy to help." Amami nodded, and followed Harukawa from the room. "See you around, Saihara~! Good luck with the other introductions, Kiibo!" he chirped, as Maki only raised a hand in farewell. Then they were gone.

It was still uncomfortable how quickly vampires disappeared. Would Saihara ever get used to this stuff? Or maybe he'd always be left for a few seconds stunned as he tried to reassemble his thoughts?

Kiibo gave a slow exhale, parts creaking and Saihara could feel the increase in heat coming from his surface. "I was hoping we'd meet Harukawa later. She's not the easiest to meet, especially first. I was hoping we could build up to her."  _Well, none of them had been very easy to meet_. "She may seem cold, but she means well. Usually. She's an excellent carer of young vampires, and we haven't lost any or have them turn wayward under her care."

Saihara shifted, hand twitching to reach up and touch his cap. Seems he was starting to break the habit already. "She mentioned the war again… why were other races killed? Wasn't it more of a demon-vampire-human fight?"

Kiibo shrugged. "Alliances. Especially when vampires can come from other supernatural races. Their families have a tendency of getting pulled into the same messes as us that way, and the extended family and so on and so forth. Actually, without the aid of the other races, I doubt any of the vampires would've survived." Kiibo frowned, fidgeting with his fingers, tracing plating and joints. "A lot of groups took a toll. It… it was a bloody fight. It was centuries ago but sometimes," he clenched his fist and turned his wrist around the ball joint, "it feels like yesterday.

Saihara stayed silent. He had been here only a day, but so much of his world had been turned upside down. He still didn't understand a lot, still didn't have enough information. Maybe sticking around wouldn't be so bad. Solving mysteries was at his very core, after all.

After an immeasurable pause, Kiibo inhaled and clapped his hands together. "Alright, I may not know much about feeding humans, but isn't it appropriate to have you consume lunch now?" Saihara shrugged and nodded, and Kiibo took is as confirmation. "Alright! Afterwards, we can return with the introductions. It will be a long walk back to the kitchens, but I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have!" He took the door handle and paused, "or recommend any dishes that you would like, if you know the recipe – I'm not familiar with humans need."

"Ah, that's alright."

"I  _am_  knowledgeable in the dietary requirements of vampires, and many other supernatural species!" Kiibo started, face brightening when Saihara gestured for him to continue. "Fae folk need a high vegetable and fruit intake, and have difficulty digesting preservatives. Werebeasts consume meat at a significant rate, and are surprisingly capable of dairy items. Witches are the most interesting as they need a range of berries, ground up crystals, spring water and…" Saihara began to tune out the robot's rambling, feeling his heartbeat slow and his breathing calm. They slipped back into the corridors, now feeding the gentle chatter of lively vampires along different passages to them.

At least, with people like this to fill up his day, things were going to get far from boring.


End file.
